


With Love and Violence In His Eyes

by goldenteaset



Category: Fate/Grand Order, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: Dark, Gen, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Pre-Canon, Shippy Gen, Unrequited Lust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-07-15 17:44:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16068119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldenteaset/pseuds/goldenteaset
Summary: "“How lovely,” Medb coos, and tips the Grail forward, lets it fall from her hands.Let it spill. It doesn’t matter if it swallows up her warriors, the land, or the world. As long as it swallows Cu, bathes him in it, overwhelms him with her wish. Even if he dies—and he may very well—he will be the perfect sacrifice to bring forth a king worthy of her."





	With Love and Violence In His Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Hallo! :D Here's something short I wrote after finishing E Pluribus Unum/Chapter America, now dusted off and polished. And just in time for Halloween!
> 
> In that chapter, it's implied Medb summoned Cu as a Berserker and _then_ Altered him, so this is kind-of an AU. But it also seems her style to use Lancer Cu as a literal canvas for her purposes. (Pick your poison!)
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own FGO.

Medb looks at the man before her and can’t help but sigh. It’s almost a waste, seeing her darling Cu’s blood dripping onto the dusty ground. It would be more proper if it were spilled in her honor. Instead, he came here to rescue his Master, the one she kidnapped a mere hour ago.

Cu is nothing if not loyal. Medb can’t hold back a giggle at how easily he played into her hands.

A cool breeze slithers through the muggy night. It rustles their hair and the thin grass at their feet. Droplets of Cu’s blood are caught by the wind, dying it onto a nearby briar.

Not good. That means he’s fading already.  

Somehow, she didn’t think his blood would be an average red (black, in this light). It _should_ look like wine, thick and intoxicating.

Oh well. Thanks to Cu’s pathetic Master, she has the Grail now. And soon…it will be just the two of them, underneath the glittering canopy of stars. 

“I should’ve known it was you,” Cu mutters, striding past the warriors that fruitlessly sliced his arms to ribbons. “You’re always taking stuff that’s not yours.”

Medb puts on her most charming pout. “Oh, don’t be like that, Cu! Every treasure in this world belongs to me.”

Cu wipes beads of sweat from his beautiful brow, staining it with red. “Is that so? Sorry, but I can’t let that slide tonight.” His grim smile is dazzlingly sweet. “Now give my Master back, and I’ll leave you to your looting.”

This foolish, darling man never changes. 

“Seize him,” she sings, and produces the Grail. “Throw every weapon you have, my warriors!”

Medb knows the Hound of Ulster’s legend well, like a constant refrain in her mind—and not only the parts she featured in. No matter what pierces his skin (swords, axes, even Magecraft), he will endure it. He will fight and win and die for his beloved countrymen…and now, his Master.

Which gives her plenty of time to make her wish.

On a whim, she strolls up a nearby knoll to get a better vantage point. After all, who knows what form her wish will take? And if the Cu she creates is like her, well…it would be best to have the high ground. She wants to see him race up to meet her outstretched arms, with love and violence in his eyes.

As she holds the Grail in her hands, watching the stars' reflection on its unnaturally-warm metal, she mulls over the wording one last time. She doesn’t need to, necessarily. This has been her wish since the moment Cu Chulainn held her hostage and refused her charms, since he looked at her with careless eyes. This man could be a king, should be _her_ king.

And now she will have him.    

She utters her wish, half-listening to Cu screaming at her to stop whatever the hell she’s doing. She watches with wide eyes as something dark and thick as tar swirls into existence in the Grail's depths, filling and filling and overflowing.

“How lovely,” Medb coos, and tips the Grail forward, lets it fall from her hands.

Let it spill. It doesn’t matter if it swallows up her warriors, the land, or the world. As long as it swallows Cu, bathes him in it, overwhelms him with her wish. Even if he dies—and he may very well—he will be the perfect sacrifice to bring forth a king worthy of her.

The mud flows on and on, burning away everything in its path. The last she sees of Cu is an outstretched, skeletal hand, clawing at the steaming mud for purchase.

It’s almost disappointing…but not quite. The Cu she creates will be _far_ more durable.

It’s over remarkably quickly. The mud melts away, leaving a larger, unconscious Cu surrounded by bones and fire, ready to be molded to her preferences. His broad chest rises and falls in a reassuring rhythm. He’s beautiful: every inch of him is bare for her, each muscle smooth and thick...and designed to kill.

But he could be bigger. Yes, a little taller, thicker in the thighs. And perhaps she could give him a tail, to crush his enemies to bits and wind about her legs like a heat-addled cat's. Her mind is electrified with ideas, each more intoxicating than the last.    

When a king wakes, the first thing he sees should be his queen. And so Medb slinks down the knoll, lighting over spotless ribs and skulls to meet him. However, there's work to be done first: adjustments to be made, his allegiance to be claimed, his heart to caress in her hands. 

She can’t wait to begin.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Feedback is appreciated. :D


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